XXV

The Old Lion

Tywin Looked down at the newly blossoming tree with wonder, winter truly had only lasted a few months. He could tell from the warm breeze and the greening plants that this was no false spring as they were occasionally blessed with in Westeros, this was the real thing. He was drawing up orders for the family fields to be resown when Kevan entered his study with the latest reports on the fortifications at the Banefort.

"Brother, it seems things are going better than we had hoped, the Baneforts believe the additions to the Banefort itself are to be done within the next few months and the great wall is proceeding as well."

Tywin nodded, "Good to hear, how are they proceeding so quickly though? Gold can make men work faster but only by so much."

Kevan handed him the letter, "Lord Banefort says he's hired on a small party of Dwarves to be stonemasons. Apparently they're quite skilled in these arts."

Tywin's brow furrowed, "Dwarves Kevan? Surely they're more accustomed to circus performances."

Kevan shrugged, "It seems that in these lands there is a race known as dwarves, squat and stout like the Ibbenese. They live in great caves in the mountains by all accounts."

Tywin nodded, "Yes I seem to recall the emissary of Mordor saying something about them." A thought suddenly struck him and he looked at the map displayed on his wall, "You don't suppose there's dwarves living in the mountains near to us? If the Wizard is in service to some power in Dunland or in Rohan the Banefort will hold until we can reinforce it, but against an army that comes out of the mountains…"

Kevan studied the map with him, "I know only that Lord Banefort's dwarves have come from the Blue Mountains here," he pointed to a small maintain range in the far northwest. "Genna mentioned something to me earlier about the Westerlings wanting to hire on some Dwarves of their own."

Tywin raised an eyebrow, "the Westerlings? The Banefort guards the entire realm now, surely they must know I'm not paying to rebuild all of the castles in the Westerlands?"

Kevan smiled, "Well old Lord Gawen had his men stay out mining all winter and managed to bring in some gold while everyone else stopped. It seems he decided to trust the people saying winter would last three months over those who said it would last six years."

Tywin looked out the window again, down to the green grass and leaves that colored the landscape, "A gambit that paid off it seems. Still these Dwarves are rare in these parts, I'd not have the Westerlings pull their services away from where they are needed."

They were interrupted by Lancel, who entered abruptly without knocking, "Lord Uncle, father-"

"Lancel, I did not raise you in a barn. Do that again properly," Kevan cut him off.

The young knight sighed and left the room, closing the door. Tywin could hear him rap the door a few times. Kevan looked to Tywin with a grin. Tywin allowed himself a very small smile, "Enter," he said.

Lancel entered again, "There, was that so difficult?" Kevan asked.

Lancel ignored him, "Lord Uncle, Father, there is a man here claiming to be a prince of Rohan. He seems genuine enough to me but I thought it best to have you… examine him."

The two older men exchanged glances, Tywin decided to speak, "So prince Theodred of Rohan comes himself to meet us? It seems that I have underestimated Perestan's Maesters."

Lancel shook his head, "No, he says his name is Eomer, but he comes with a letter from Theoden, King of Rohan."

"Eomer is the nephew of the king and has been raised by him since childhood," Kevan said, "Saruman told me that-"

"I'll hear no more of the Wizard," Tywin said. "Lancel, house prince Eomer and have him brought to the throne room at twilight."

"Yes Uncle," Lancel said, and left quickly.

Some time later he sat in the golden throne of Casterly Rock, he always enjoyed greeting a guest here for the first time. Between the great stained glass window behind him and the golden throne, which had sat there for thousands of years by all accounts, he always felt as though he was presenting the glory of House Lannister through the ages. Looking at the chamber at sunset he knew it was impossible not to feel awe at the history and power of the ancient line.

The great doors were opened at each end by the redcloaks, wearing their finer regalia. He could see the horselord prince enter, himself wearing a lacquered crimson and green armor set and carrying his helm by his side.

"Greetings to prince Eomer of Rohan. I am Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands and hand of Joffrey Baratheon, King of the Andals and the First men," he had to stop himself from including "Lord of the Seven Kingdoms," but he felt that between the bright colored light that streamed in from behind him and the glowing golden throne he had made his impression.

Eomer knelt low, "Hail to Lord Paramount Tywin Lannister and King Joffrey Baratheon. I come on behalf of King Theoden of the house of Eorl, lord of Rohan and all it's people's to establish relations with the Westerlands."

Respectful enough, Tywin thought, but still… "I see you wear full armor to treat with me, fine though it is, do you fear attack in my halls Prince Eomer?"

Eomer suddenly seemed embarrassed, "Forgive me Lord Tywin, I spend little time in foreign courts. These are my most impressive vestiments and I thought-"

"I will see you are given a proper set of Westerosi dress robes for your stay here," Tywin continued, "Consider it a gift."

Eomer nodded his head, "Many thanks Lord Tywin."

Sheltered enough from courtly politics not to see gifts as slights I see, Tywin thought, Rohan must be far more rural than Gondor or the Westerlands.

The young knight interrupted his thoughts suddenly, "Forgive my inquiry Lord Tywin, but I have heard the wizard Saruman graces your court… is there truth to these rumors?"

Tywin frowned, "No, Saruman's counsel proved to be ill suited for my needs. He is forbidden to return here."

Eomer smiled and it seemed a weight had been lifted from him, "A wise move your lordship, I have long suspected Saruman of certain ill activities in Rohan."

Tywin raised an eyebrow, "Truly? We will need to discuss this further in more… private spaces."

Eomer was silent a moment, "I suppose that wouldn't be improper. I will say I am a Marshal of the Riddermark and some things are not to be discussed with outsiders."

Naïve to court intrigue but still no fool, Tywin thought, "I simply wish to inquire as to the wizard's movements so that I may determine his motives. I will not trouble you for the intimate details of Rohan's defenses," he assured Eomer.

Eomer nodded, "Then I see nothing wrong with the request. Where and when shall I meet you?"

Tywin thought a moment, "My solar, ensure your men are fed and housed and then come at your convenience. See my nephew Lancel, the man who greeted you, about proper attire."

Eomer nodded and got up to leave. Tywin went to meet with Kevan briefly, he found his brother in his own apartment in the Rock, on the level just below his own.

"So is he a prince then?" His brother asked as he entered.

"A nephew of the king at any rate, I'd have you accompany me to speak with him. He knows some of Saruman's dealings, if the Wizard moves against us in other lands I'd prefer to know."

The two men went up the great staircase to Tywin's personal solar, though the view from the top of the rock was magnificent the sun was setting and he knew that by the time the horselord arrived it would be too dark to see anything but the few remaining lights down in Lannisport. He lit a few of the torches on the walls, he rarely allowed servants up here, preferring privacy.

He was sitting with Kevan discussing the influence of the Faith in Lannisport when Eomer entered. Tywin noted that he wore a green silk button up shirt that appeared to have been hastily tailored. Still, it seemed to suit the man well.

"Prince Eomer, good of you to join us," he greeted the prince and gestured for him to sit in a chair arranged across from the two brothers, "I'd hoped we could discuss the Wizard."

Eomer nodded and sat down, without asking he poured himself a cup of the wine that was present on a small table. He quickly took a gulp and then spoke, "I'll start by saying I have no proof of the White Wizard's treason, only suspicion and circumstance."

Tywin nodded, "Suspicion and circumstance are often pathways to truth. Why not start with the latter?"

Eomer sighed, "The Wizard is the master of Isengard, he was given the keys to the tower several hundred years ago by all accounts."

"Several hundred years ago?" Kevan cut in, "surely you are mistaken-"

"I could believe this," Tywin said suddenly, "Whatever he is it is more than a man… in a land where all seasons come in a single year anything is possible." He left his own experience with the Wizard unsaid.

Eomer nodded, "The wizards have roamed the world for centuries, perhaps longer. Some say they are of elven blood, but it matters little for our purposes." He took another drink, sipping instead of a great gulp this time, "Saruman's duties included guardianship of the West, but in the past year there are reports of orcs about. The men of Dunland have also come in force to those parts in a way they haven't in decades. At the very least the Wizard is neglecting his duties. He has also raised a great stone ring around the tower of Orthanc, I worry he is preparing it to resist us."

Tywin took a sip of his own wine and considered this, "Can your uncle, King Theoden, not simply remove him from this post?"

Eomer sighed, "My uncle is… ill. His sickness is of the body and the mind. His counselor, Grima of the house of Galmod, fills his head with foolish advice and folly."

Now Tywin was interested, It seems Aerys was not the only madman the gods granted a throne, "This Grima, he seeks to advance himself then?"

"More than that," Eomer scowled, "Not only does he fill the halls of Edoras with men answering only to him, he has alienated the King's sworn men. He has sought to pit Theodred and I against each other, but we see through him. All of these worry me little compared to the gazes he gives my sister Eowyn though."

"He wishes for marriage to your sister?" Kevan asked, stroking his short beard.

Eomer grimaced at the thought, "She would never consent and I would never allow it." He gripped his glass tightly.

Tywin considered this a moment, The fisherman baits his hooks again, "It sounds as though this Grima is unfit for governance. The Seven Kingdoms have been bled terribly at the hands of unfit kings and foolish advisors, perhaps a regency is in order for his grace."

Eomer's eyes narrowed, "You overstep Lord Tywin…"

If you won't do it for your kingdom... "I apologize Prince Eomer, I was only thinking of your poor sister."

Eomer stared into his cup a moment, "Can I offer you a refill?" Kevan asked, filling his own cup to the brim. Eomer nodded and though Tywin hid his emotions inwardly he smiled. Kevan had sensed his intention and knew wine would grease the wheels turning in the young prince's head.

"Yes please," Eomer replied, turning his cup over to the younger Lannister. "A regency would be… complicated, I do not think Theodred and I could raise the men to do it. Not without leaving the realm undefended at any rate."

"Your plight moves me Lord Eomer, I would do all I could to help," Tywin said.

Eomer's eyebrows shot up, "You would send men to help guard Rohan while this matter was… settled?"

Tywin faked a sigh, "I must apologize Prince Eomer, I would provide you aid and shelter but I cannot ask my vassals to go to war for my personal feelings and friendship."

Eomer nodded sadly, "I feared as much, you have my thanks in any case."
"Indeed, the lords of the Westerlands will not march to war without imminent threat… or family ties of course," Kevan said.

Eomer perked up a second, "family ties?" he asked. His speech was slightly slurred, it seemed that the wine of the Westerlands was stronger than that of Rohan as well as Gondor.

"Well if there were marriage ties between our families all would agree we would have reason to become involved," Tywin said, making quick eye contact with his brother, who smiled at him briefly.

Eomer shook his head, "No, no… impossible…"

"Quite the contrary," Tywin replied, "I've both an unmarried daughter, quite fertile I assure you, or if you desire I've granddaughter of the Royal Line who will come of age in just a few years." He paused a moment, "of course my brother here has a son, Lancel. I believe he greeted you."

Taking the cue his brother nodded, "A fine and stout lad if I do say so myself. Before being raised to knighthood he squired for King Robert Baratheon."

Tywin cut in, "I also have a son, Jaime, known to be the finest warrior in the Westerlands and my heir."

Eomer was silent for a time, Tywin and Kevan gave him time to think. "I could not very well save Eowyn from Grima by wedding her to a stranger," he sighed, "Perhaps Theodred or myself…" He looked at his cup and then set it down, when Kevan moved to refill it he shook his head, declining the offer. "Things are not so bad in Edoras that these drastic measures are necessary. I thank you for your offer and I will pass it to my cousin Theodred." He paused, "These words cannot leave this room," he said suddenly.

"Of course, secrecy is a necessity in such matters," Tywin said, "wouldn't you agree Kevan?"

His brother nodded, "Nothing of this will leave our lips."

Eomer looked at them and nodded, "I grow weary, by your leave I would retire to my chambers…"

"You have my leave," Tywin said, doing his best kindly smile. Judging from Kevan's reaction it probably needed more work.

After the prince had gone he and Kevan discussed the potential of an alliance with Rohan, "He would be reliant on us to stay in power," Kevan said, "It would be ideal."

Tywin nodded, swirling his wine slowly. "We could also work towards evicting the Wizard from Orthanc, I share Eomer's suspicions. A man who builds a fortress expects a siege, he has been planning something since before The Arrival-"

They were interrupted by a sudden frantic knock on the door. Tywin frowned, Who could that be at this hour? "Enter," he said.

It was maester Creylen, he had long served Casterly Rock though he'd never provided any words of advice Tywin had found particularly helpful, "Maester Creylen it is late, whatever has happened perhaps it can wait until-"

"It's Jaime Lord Tywin," the maester said, "He's..." Tywin could see the man's hands shaking and suddenly his blood ran cold.

"Out with it!" he suddenly roared.

The maester collected himself, "A raven has come from Minas Tirith from Lord Tyrion… Ser Jaime has been murdered by the men of Gondor."
The shocked silence was broken by the sound of Tywin's cup hitting the floor.